


60-40

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Slurs, Unrequited Crush, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yuri walks in on Victor and Yuuri in the locker room at Ice Castle one morning. He stays to watch.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	60-40

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing YOI for the first time, I wanted to try my hand at a popular trope. Please read the tags and warnings. Enjoy.
> 
> _This 60-40 (isn't) workin'_  
>  _I want a hundred of your time, you're mine_

The moon sat low against the sky, emitting a soft glow into Yuri’s bedroom at the Hasetsu inn. It was early in the morning, cold, dark, and damp, and it had been raining nonstop for the last week. Yuri woke up groggy, his body sore from yesterday’s practice and another night of restless sleep in a foreign country. He had, undoubtedly, been sequestered to what was essentially a dusty old storage room and sleeping on a _futon_ , possibly the worst lodgings he could have asked for. He had taken it upon himself to amass a tower of fluffy blankets, damning to hell whoever invented such a sorry excuse for a bed. It was true, Yuri could afford a more luxurious hotel with his stipend, but he was silently grateful for the room. This way, he was able keep closer tabs on Victor—and on Yuuri. Still, what he wouldn’t give to be at home snuggled with Potya, waking up to a comforting white blanket of snow from the previous night’s storm. Though the clouds were thick and drifting towards the horizon, it wouldn’t snow in Hasetsu at this time of the year.

Half-asleep, he stumbled out of his bed to the dining area.

Breakfast was usually a quick affair. Yuuri and Victor had already left, either jogging along the bridge or making it an early day at the rink, and the Katsukis were busy attending to inn’s morning chores. While no one waited to eat breakfast together, it was a secret pleasure of Yuri’s to eat with company. As they had every day since his arrival, the Katsukis left out a simple traditional Japanese breakfast for him with soup, grilled fish, and white rice. It was different than his grandfather’s syrniki, but it filled him up all the same.

The sun rose as Yuri walked to Ice Castle. It wasn’t a far walk from the inn, and on a less damp day, he might have jogged there as a warm-up. Unlike Yuuri, he didn’t need the extra exercise. His metabolism was keeping him lean just on the virtue of his youth. It wouldn’t last forever, though, and that’s why he had to take advantage of his skill now. Victor _had_ to be his coach.

Ice Castle was unlocked and unstaffed, quiet as it normally was in the mornings. Sometimes, sounds of metal against ice would echo out into the lobby, and even that alone was comforting. Yuri found it surprisingly lonely in Japan. The memory of familiar sounds soothed him as he hurried to the back of the building. He wasn’t about to lose out if Victor and Yuuri were already practicing.

Once in the locker room, he sat his duffel bag on the ground to change. Then, he heard it: the distinct, undeniable sound of sex.

Victor was on the furthermost bench. He was half-dressed, his thin knit sweater off and pants carelessly bunched around his ankles. Beneath him was Yuuri, bobbing up and down on his cock like he’d been practicing cocksucking instead of his short program for the last week. With each suck, Victor clenched and unclenched his grip on the bench and spread his legs wider to accommodate Yuuri underneath.

Slowly, Yuri slid down against the cool metal of the locker door and sat on the floor. They hadn’t noticed him. The absolute vulgarity of the scene made his heart skip a beat. How long had Victor been giving it to the pig? he wondered.

The worst part was, despite being cock-first in someone’s warm, tight mouth, Victor was staring straight at him. His eyes, though half-lidded with undeniable hunger, still held a glimmer of razor-sharp awareness. It was just like Victor, though—he even looked like that while skating to the deafening cheers of a sold-out crowd. In fact, he had probably noticed Yuri the moment he opened the door.

Victor smiled. From across the room, his body language was saying something filthy. Something like, _Are you enjoying the show?_

Yuri gulped. This was bad. He had seen too much, but it was too late to run unless he wanted to chance alerting Yuuri. He wouldn’t give that loser the satisfaction, either, of seeing him dumbfounded, or even more humiliating, wholly and absolutely turned on. His palms began to sweat, and he quietly unzipped his jacket with a delicacy he only thought he had when he skated. It was getting unbearably warm in here, he noticed, despite the cool temperatures set at Ice Castle.

Moreover, he was hyper-aware of Victor continuously eye-fucking him from the bench.

Yuuri had taken to whining, his mews muffled with the distinct thickness of Victor’s hard cock. Victor lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, using his grip to guide himself deeper with an unexpected harshness. When Yuuri moaned again, Victor’s thumb stroked back and forth gently at the base of his neck.

It was just like Yuuri to get all hot and bothered from sucking someone’s cock. From the looks of it, he might even come without being touched. He was splayed out on his knees on the dirty, grimy floor of the locker room, still completely dressed. He bucked his hips into the air like a shameless whore as he choked down his coach’s cock. He sucked loud until he released Victor with a wet _pop_ , and with frantic shuffling, Yuuri reached down to palm himself through his pants until slipping beneath the waistband. His free hand grabbed at Victor’s cock, visibly moist with spit and precum, and stroked it.

Victor bent to kiss him. Their kiss was the passionate kind, eyes closed and hands gripping for each other’s faces as Yuuri leaned up to meet him, and it was unlike anything Yuri had seen before. Victor moved his lips down from Yuuri’s mouth to his throat, biting at the soft expanse of flesh there, and sucked—Yuuri was restless beneath him. From across the room, Yuri glared as Victor tongued at his neck and shoulder, unable to look away. Victor’s eyes flickered up to meet his gaze.

 _Fuck_. In the pit of his stomach, Yuri started to feel a fiery sickness. It was jealously.

“Yuuri,” Victor said, “take off your clothes.” He wasn’t looking at Katsuki.

Yuuri did as he was ordered, tripping over himself as he stood in a way that betrayed his eagerness. Once nude, Victor pulled him down onto his lap, Yuuri’s legs spread over his, and squeezed at his ass, kneading his cheeks until they turned red. His grip turned soft as he crept a finger towards his hole and circled it slowly.

Yuri had figured him a virgin.

Not that he was any different. He had watched porn, of course, like any boy his age, and had even gone on a few dates with Russian girls back home. It was hard to date as an athlete, though, even as a young one, and many who showed interest were only after the clout associated with being seen with a prodigy. Yuri gave up. It was common for Yakov to forbid dating anyway, and most of his peers had secret one-night flings instead. Neither interested him. When necessary, he’d rub one out after a long day to help him sleep.

But what was happening in the locker room was in a completely different category than any date or porno. The sounds, for one, were unbelievably lewd, wet and sloppy sounding, seeming louder than any depraved video he could dare blare through his headphones at night. The movements, too, were more hurried and less mechanical. The unmistakable hot smell of sex floated towards him, and it was starting to affect his reasoning skills.

Victor slipped a finger into Yuuri with ease. Yuuri must have been lubed up or getting fingerfucked on the regular to take it that well. While Yuri had never wanted anything up his ass before, the way Victor watched him as he pushed in another finger was absolutely mesmerizing. He concentrated hard on Victor’s slender hands and their quick movements as they made room in Yuuri's ass for his cock, twisting and spreading deep inside him, pulling out and pushing in with want. Though he would never admit it, Yuuri made it look amazing. He writhed in Victor’s lap as his muscles twitched, grinding up against and into his fingers as he jerked himself off again. Even from behind, Yuri could see a deep flush spread across his skin.

“Please, Victor,” Yuuri begged.

“Ah, Yuuri, you’re going to come just from this?” Victor asked teasingly. He removed his fingers and then shoved them back in, adding a third. “You can’t handle a few fingers in your ass?”

“I—I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” He sounded genuinely sorry, the idiot.

Yuri squeezed himself through his pants. He was already fully erect, so much so that it was painful. It was possible he was even closer to coming than Yuuri.

Then, in Russian, Victor murmured, " _I know you want me to fuck you._ ”

Wait, what? Yuri's entire body turned hot, dizzy, and damp with the beginnings of a nervous sweat. He had reached the point of no return. His bangs were like glue against his forehead, and he pushed them back as reached under the elastic of his pants to pump at himself. He thought in a burst of images, of himself in Yuuri’s place, first his ass full of Victor’s fingers and then his fat, aching cock. He would slide into Victor’s mouth and kiss him hard, sucking at his tongue and nibbling at his lips until they started to bleed. He’d let him do whatever he wanted: fuck him sideways, on all fours, over the bench, face planted onto the floor, come on his face or ass or in his mouth. He wanted to taste his cock, still warm and wet from Yuuri’s spit—

 _"Yura_ ," Victor said.

Yuri snapped up to look at him. Lost in his thoughts, he was about to come. Now, all he could think of was how sure Victor was that Yuuri wouldn’t turn around.

“ _Hi. Surprising, huh?_ ” He smiled. “ _Yuuri… he’s been such a little slut. Well, I taught him, of course._ ” He paused. “ _Oh, don’t worry—you know he can’t understand me. Don’t stop, keep jerking yourself off. Let me see. I bet you’ve been aching to come since you got in here._ ”

Yuri nodded. He started to move his hand again. Maybe he’d make Yuuri watch as Victor fucked him, which suited him much better. He’d ride Victor backwards, back to his chest, and fuck up and down as he faced Yuuri straight on. Yuuri was an awful fuck, right?—he saw it, he was awful at everything, and Yuri couldn’t let Victor continue with such a lazy never-won-in-his-life loser. Victor deserved someone better. He’d give it all to him.

" _So, you want a turn? He’s good with his mouth._ ” Satisfied that he had stretched him enough, Victor lifted Yuuri and eased him up onto his cock. " _His ass is even better. Grips you just right. He makes the cutest little noises as you fuck him, too._ ”

Maybe Yuuri could be a good boy and put his mouth to use. Yuri wondered how it would feel to have him mouthing on his cock and balls as he milked the come out of Victor.

_“Have you ever had anyone inside you?”_

He watched as Victor spread Yuuri’s ass further apart to accommodate the whole of his dick. With it totally inside, Yuuri rocked back and forth and grabbed at Victor’s shoulder for leverage. With each grind, he let out a little whimper. Yuri wanted that, and he wanted it badly. Why was this happening? Why was it Yuuri and never him? Yuuri was always getting this sort of special treatment, wasn’t he, with Victor suddenly flying to some remote hick town in Japan, forgetting about his promise for some faggot who placed dead-fucking-last in the Grand Prix. It wasn’t fair. _He_ completely annihilated everyone in the junior division, and he was going to completely annihilate everyone again. _Fuck._ Yuri shut his eyes. The beginning of his orgasm was creeping up through his balls and making his cock twitch dangerously. He wanted to get the fuck out of here and never look back.

" _Hah. Come on, keep watching._ ” Victor said. “ _Look at me._ ”

He chanced a look. Victor was fucking Yuuri hard now, and he didn’t need or want to see it, the moans were loud enough.

_“Yuuri does such a good job taking my cock. Yeah, that's right, keep touching yourself. I wonder, could you do it better? How much could you take?”_

All of it, he thought, he could take all of it, and better than Yuuri, too. Faster and harder, and make him come twice as hard. He changed the speed of his hand to match.

_“You like that. Open your eyes, come on. Watch, Yura.”_

He nodded, obedient, and his head lolled from side to side before he muffled his cries into the crook of his elbow. He had come hard to the crude sight of Yuuri’s muscular ass bouncing on Victor’s cock. It felt horrible.

Quickly, he stuffed himself back into his pants and grabbed his duffel bag. He’d change elsewhere, and maybe practice alone from now on too. Fuck this place. Victor wasn’t looking at him anymore, not really, not now and not ever. Not with Yuuri around, anyway.

Without turning around, Yuri left and made sure to slam the locker room door on the way out.


End file.
